


saltwater room

by whooves



Category: Les Misérables - All Media Types
Genre: Artist!R, Courfeyrac and Jehan are genderbent, First Kiss, First Meetings, M/M, merfic, mild violence towards the end, someone is threatened with a knife
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-10-08
Updated: 2014-10-08
Packaged: 2018-02-20 10:29:55
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 14,344
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2425409
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/whooves/pseuds/whooves
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“Hello,” Enjolras says when he reaches the edge of the water, sand scrunching underneath his toes. He tries not to look at the man’s lap, blushing.</p><p>When the man tips his head up in surprise, Enjolras is met with bluegreen eyes that seem to flicker in the sunlight.</p><p>“Me?” The man asks, his voice low and raspy, as if not frequently used. “Hello me?” He looks behind him, as if Enjolras could be addressing someone else.</p>
            </blockquote>





	saltwater room

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Fahrouche (decemaeternam)](https://archiveofourown.org/gifts?recipient=Fahrouche+%28decemaeternam%29).



> Written for [Alana's](http://fahrouche.tumblr.com/) birthday and no other reason. It's just finally making its way onto ao3 two weeks later.
> 
> This would not be possible without the editing skills of[ Abigail](http://vivelarepublique.tumblr.com/).
> 
> Title from Owl City's song The Saltwater Room (which is very cute, you should listen).

Enjolras is a perfectly rational man, or so he likes to think. He lives in a small town, has a few very good friends, eats all of his vegetables and works hard at his job - managing (and now owning) many of the town’s entertainment venues.

The point is, Enjolras is at least relatively rational and stable and not at all prone to outbursts.

This is why when he sees a naked man sitting on the beach carving a fish out of a piece of driftwood, he only squeaks, and does not scream in surprise. He also turns increasingly red as he walks up to the man sitting half in the surf. Inky black waves of hair curtain the man’s face as he bends over his work, whittling away at the wood with what appears to be a very old knife.

“Hello,” Enjolras says when he reaches the edge of the water, sand scrunching underneath his toes. He tries not to look at the man’s lap, blushing.

When the man tips his head up in surprise, Enjolras is met with bluegreen eyes that seem to flicker in the sunlight.

“Me?” The man asks, his voice low and raspy, as if not frequently used. “Hello me?” He looks behind him, as if Enjolras could be addressing someone else.

“Yes, hello to you.”

“Oh.” He smiles, and goes back to carving, tipping his head back. “Hello.”

“Um, this is a not a nude beach,” he begins . The man’s eyes flick back up, but he doesn’t speak. “You can’t go around naked. You need to be wearing clothes.”

The man frowns, and he bites his lower lip.

“I don’t have...clothes,” he says.

What kind of person doesn’t have clothes? Enjolras frowns, and he tries again.

“Oh, really? Where are you from?” The man suddenly looks confused. He looks down at his lap, out to sea, and then back at Enjolras. He shrugs. Enjolras sighs.”Who are you?” He pauses, thoughtfully. “Do you know who you are?”

“Of course I know who I am,” the man scowls. “I’m Grantaire.”

“Well, Grantaire. You can’t stay on this beach without clothes, you need to go somewhere.”

The man - Grantaire - looks around the beach and laughs.

“I didn’t think this through, did I?” he says half to himself, and then turns to Enjolras. “I don’t have anywhere to go.”

His phone is half out to call the police and let _them_ deal with this attractive man sitting naked in the surf carving a piece of driftwood, but Enjolras freezes, remembering the treatment of the homeless woman in their town last summer. The police had harassed her and ultimately driven her out of town, which shouldn’t even have been legal. The police had repeatedly ignored any of the citizens offers to help her, including from from Enjolras and his friends. Enjolras is not about to let anyone else suffer at the hands of incompetence and ignorance.

Also, the wood figurine in Grantaire’s hand bears a striking resemblance to the carved seahorse sitting on his mantelpiece at home.

“Do you do this often?” Enjolras asks, hand curling tightly around his cellphone.

“You sure have a lot of questions,” Grantaire says. “Do what, exactly?”

“Sit around and carve sea creatures into driftwood?” The seahorse Enjolras has at home is beautiful, intricately carved, found while walking on the beach one afternoon. And he’s not the only one who has one: the local gallery has an entire collection of these mysterious wood carvings.

“I carve a lot.” He looks at the beach in amusement. “Not usually here, though.”

“I have one in my house.”

“Sorry?”

“I have a seahorse in my house. I think you carved it.”

“Why would you keep it?” Grantaire frowns, smoothing his hand over the now fully-carved fish. He throws it back out to the waves.

“Why would you just throw them out?” Enjolras says. 

“Do you really want to have this conversation here?” Grantaire’s eyes sparkle, and he tucks his knife behind his ear. it should make him look menacing, but for some reason it just makes him look quirky. And the more he talks to him, the more he really feels like he can’t just leave this guy, Grantaire, on the beach.

“You’re right,” Enjolras concedes. “Why don’t we go to my house and we can talk about it there.” He pauses, then adds, “And maybe get you some medical help?”

Grantaire looks confused.

“Your house. Sure.” He pushes his hands against the sand, to no avail. “Can you help me up?” he asks, sheepishly.

Enjolras offers both his hands and grasps Grantaire’s, the sand gritty beneath their palms. He expects Grantaire to use his hands as leverage. Instead, Grantaire almost pulls him down onto the sand.

They try again, and Enjolras hauls him up, but Grantaire stumbles into him, his legs trembling underneath of him. Enjolras wraps his arms around the man’s waist, reflexively, to support him as he gets his bearings.

Enjolras’s hands are low on his hips. Bare hips. He feels his face flush red but the other man doesn’t seem to notice, too busy concentrating on his legs and keeping his knees locked.

“Shit, shit, shit,” Grantaire mutters, “what the fuck, how is this so hard, Eponine didn’t say _anything_ about this.” He grits his teeth and white-knuckles his grip on Enjolras’s arm. Enjolras hisses and his grip immediately loosens. “Shit, sorry, sorry,” he says. “I’m sorry, I can’t even walk.”

“It’s okay, let me help you,” Enjolras says. He slings an arm around Grantaire’s waist and pulls Grantaire’s arm over his own shoulders. “One step after the other, there you go.” He’s not limping, just falling over himself. Enjolras can’t see any blood or obvious breaks or sprains.

This is hands-down the most bizarre thing that has ever happened to him, including the time that Courfeyrac got stuck on a dinghy two miles off the shore and Enjolras and Combeferre had to come rescue her at 2am using a canoe which was _really _not made for the ocean.__

__They stumble their way into the parking lot, and to Enjolras’s dawning horror, a car has parked and someone is getting out._ _

__The young woman shrieks when she sees Grantaire’s naked body and flushes pink Enjolras glares. Hard._ _

__“He lost his trunks in the ocean and twisted his ankle,” he says viciously, and looks down. His cheeks are burning and he can feel the warmth of Grantaire’s body pressed up against his._ _

__“Humans,” Grantaire mutters. Enjolras has to agree, though he’s still not quite sure of his own sanity, hauling a naked man to his car so he can take him home, keep him safe, and ask him more about his mysterious beach sculptures. And possibly get him diagnosed with amnesia?_ _

__Enjolras helps him stand still, which he manages for as long as it takes Enjolras to fish a blanket out of the trunk of his car and wrap it around Grantaire’s shoulders. He then bundles him into the front seat of his car.Grantaire’s eyes are wide, but he doesn’t resist. Enjolras watches him wiggle his toes, and he pulls a foot up close to his face, giving Enjolras an unobstructed view of what he’s been trying to avoid looking at for the past twenty minutes._ _

__“Um,” Enjolras says, and blinks.“You need to put your seatbelt on.”_ _

__“My what?”_ _

__“Your seatbelt.” Grantaire still stares at him blankly, so Enjolras sighs, and reaches across Grantaire’s bare chest to grab the seatbelt and buckle it near his barely covered hip._ _

__“Oh,” Grantaire says. “Seatbelt. Okay. And we are in a…”_ _

__“Chevrolet,” Enjolras says. “From 1995. Old, I know, but it gets the job done.”_ _

__“It’s so interesting,” Grantaire says. “And it, oh, wow, wow, wow.” He stares out the window, which Enjolras has rolled down. They’re flying down the back roads and Enjolras has to laugh as Grantaire leans his head out the window and stares with an open-mouthed smile at the passing scenery._ _

__“That’s a house!” Grantaire says gleefully as Enjolras turns into his driveway._ _

__“Barely,” Enjolras mutters._ _

__“It’s wonderful,” Grantaire says. “Do you have shutters?”_ _

__“Uh,” Enjolras blinks, thrown for a loop. “Yeah? They’re red, on either side of the windows.”_ _

__Grantaire gapes with an open mouth. Enjolras gets out and is making his way up the drive, expecting Grantaire to follow. But when he looks back, Grantaire is pounding on the window looking slightly panicked._ _

__Enjolras doesn’t know what to do. He looks back at him and blinks. Grantaire continues to poke at the window, so Enjolras sighs and moves back to the car._ _

__He opens the door, and Grantaire looks at him as if he’s a god._ _

__“Come on,” Enjolras says exasperatedly, but not unkindly. Grantaire wraps the blanket tighter around his shoulders, but Enjolras figures that it’s more of a temperature thing than a modesty thing, because the towel isn’t covering his waist at all. Enjolras has never blushed this much in his life. He unlocks the door and makes sure Grantaire follows him inside. After a quick text to Combeferre, Enjolras herds Grantaire towards the bathroom._ _

__“Do you want to shower before I get you some clothes?”_ _

__“Shower?”_ _

__“You have a lot of sand and salt on you. I figured you’d want to get it off?” Enjolras himself _hates_ when there is sand in his hair, and seeing the grit on Grantaire’s legs and caked in his hair makes his own skin itch._ _

__“Oh, yeah, I guess?” Grantaire doesn’t sound too sure. He stands in the bathroom with the blanket around his shoulders and stares at Enjolras._ _

__Enjolras wonders, and not for the first time, if Grantaire has hit his head and if he should call 911 and get him to the hospital. But he seems in good enough spirits, and he’s responsive when Enjolras talks to him. He’s just a bit...odd._ _

__Enjolras takes a deep breath, and then his shoulders sag._ _

__“Okay,” he says, resigned to have to spell it out. “Give me the towel.” Grantaire hands it to him. Grantaire is obviously unfazed about being naked, so Enjolras does his best to not be embarrassed. “Stand in there,” he says, and points to the tub. Grantaire obliges, stepping inside. Enjolras turns the water on, and Grantaire stumbles, but Enjolras supports him with his arm. Grantaire grasps his arm thankfully as he gets his footing._ _

__“Okay,” Enjolras says. “Tip your head back into the water.”_ _

__Thankfully the experience is over quickly, and Enjolras gets Grantaire dressed in some of his baggier sweatpants and a t-shirt. They sit on the couch facing each other, and Grantaire picks curiously at the t-shirt he’s wearing, feeling the fabric and adjusting the neckline._ _

__“Why do you use these?” Grantaire says._ _

__“Use what?” Enjolras says. “The shirt?” Grantaire nods. “It’s a commonly accepted social convention, I suppose.” He pauses. “Why don’t you?”_ _

__“Uh,” Grantaire frowns. “I spend a lot of time in the water. It would get in the way. And these wouldn’t usually fit.” He motions at the sweatpants. “They feel good, though. Warm.”_ _

__So Grantaire is a nudist swimmer. Or something._ _

__Grantaire looks considerably different curled up on Enjolras’s couch than he did on the beach. Here, he looks out of place, adrift. But his hair curls around his face loosely, and the faint smile on his face is sweet. Enjolras feels uncharacteristically protective of this man he’s just met. Grantaire is so easily lead, and Enjolras is glad he was the one to find him sitting in the surf._ _

__Combeferre knocks on the door and Enjolras hurries to answer it._ _

__When Enjolras sees Combeferre on his doorstep, the tension seeps out of his shoulders._ _

__“Thank God you’re here. I’m really not sure what’s going on.”_ _

__“What’s going on?” Combeferre raises an eyebrow. With his black-rimmed glasses he only looks mildly judgmental, a look Enjolras is intensely familiar with._ _

__“This is Grantaire.” Enjolras gestures to the man on the sofa, who smiles in return. “I found him on the beach. He seems a bit off - trouble standing, maybe memory loss? Can you do your doctor thing?”_ _

__“My doctor thing?” Combeferre raises his other eyebrow, but his expression is amused. “Very technical. But of course I can.”_ _

__Enjolras turns to Grantaire._ _

__“This is Combeferre. He’s my best friend and one of the doctors at the local hospital. He’s going to check you out to make sure you’re okay. Okay?”_ _

__“Okay,” Grantaire says, the corners of his mouth quirked up in a small smile. “There’s nothing wrong with me, though.”_ _

__“That’s what you think,” Combeferre says. “Now, how do you feel about needles?”_ _

__This is when Enjolras leaves the room._ _

__When he comes back, three coffee cups balanced in two hands, Grantaire is curled up on the couch shivering, and Combeferre is packing things back into his bag._ _

__“Blood samples were a bit unnecessary, don’t you think?” Enjolras puts a comforting hand on Grantaire’s shoulder. He looks rather pale, to Enjolras’s mild distress. Combeferre can get a bit carried away when it comes to unorthodox medical examinations. Enjolras hands him a mug and makes sure his hands are wrapped around it before letting go._ _

__Combeferre shrugs._ _

__“You never know. It can’t hurt. I’ll run a few tests, look for anything obviously wrong. I also took a throat swab for Joly. He’s really into throat diseases right now.” He pushes his glasses up the bridge of his nose from where they’ve slipped, and smiles up at Enjolras. “I fear I may have taken advantage of your new friend’s kind and inquisitive nature, though. He does seem to be perfectly well, just a bit weak in the knees. Literally. Slow knee-jerk reflex, and lots of soreness, as if brand-new muscle is forming. But no concussion, no brain damage, not having a stroke.”_ _

__“Glad to know I’m not dying,” Grantaire says calmly, sipping from his cup and making a face._ _

__“Heavens no,” Combeferre says, and then cocks his head. “Well, no more than we all are.”_ _

__“Morbid.” Enjolras rolls his eyes, albeit fondly. Combeferre just smiles and holds out his coffee mug._ _

__“Another to-go, please? I have an overnight shift at the hospital.”_ _

__When Combeferre leaves, Enjolras is at a loss for what to do. He and Grantaire sit on the couch and stare at each other for a few minutes. The sun is nearly down and Enjolras yawns. Grantaire follows suit, and then looks surprised._ _

__“What?” Enjolras asks._ _

__“What was that?” Grantaire asks, and puts a hand to his chest, eyes wide._ _

__“Yawning is contagious, sorry,” Enjolras offers, looking at his feet. “I’m a bit tired. Do you want to watch a movie or something?”_ _

__Grantaire just stares at him._ _

__“I mean, you’re welcome to go if you want, but you said you didn’t have anywhere to go. You can stay here as long as you want,” his voice is soft, and he focuses his gaze on Grantaire’s shoulder, so he doesn’t have to meet his wide, seagreen eyes._ _

__“Thank you,” Grantaire says, with a small smile._ _

__“Where did you say you were from?” Enjolras tucks his feet under a blanket._ _

__“Sea,” is all Grantaire says, and Enjolras nods._ _

__“So, an islander. We do have some places off shore, I suppose.”_ _

__Grantaire laughs, and the bright happy sound startles Enjolras._ _

__“I feel like you’re willfully misunderstanding me,” Grantaire says, shaking his head. Enjolras frowns, but doesn’t inquire further. Instead, he waits for Grantaire to speak again. “Let’s, what did you say?” He continues after a moment._ _

__“Let’s watch a movie?”_ _

__“Yeah, that. Let's do that."_ _

__Enjolras nods and smiles. They watch something on television, though he doesn’t really pay attention. Enjolras can't even remember the name of the movie halfway through, he's too busy thinking about his new, strange houseguest. Grantaire, on the other hand, is enraptured by the screen._ _

__It's an awkward situation, but Grantaire seems comfortable enough, and he doesn't seem to be in a rush to go anywhere else._ _

__Courfeyrac would tell him that taking on spontaneous roommates is ill-advised, but Courfeyrac has no room to talk, seeing as she picked Marius up off the street one day on her way home from work._ _

__Enjolras likes to help people. It's not the easiest, living in a small, remote seaside town, but there are little ways he tries to contribute on a daily basis. And if Grantaire needs a place to stay for a while as he gets his bearings (whatever that entails), so be it, Enjolras can put him up._ _

__It might even be nice not to be all alone in his house._ _

__Enjolras tucks Grantaire in before he goes to bed, and makes sure he knows to get Enjolras if he needs anything. Before he turns the corner, he looks back at a sleepy-eyed Grantaire, wrapped in blankets on his couch, and smiles._ _

__Things only get weirder from there._ _

__When Enjolras walks out of his room, bleary-eyed, at seven a.m., he expects Grantaire to still be wiped out on the couch, but instead he’s nosing around in Enjolras’s kitchen cabinet. The mess on the floor makes Enjolras’s hand twitch._ _

__“What is this?” Grantaire says, sitting on the floor with a strainer in his hand._ _

__“I can’t believe you’ve gone all your life without seeing a colander.”_ _

__“A what?”_ _

__“A colander? You use it to drain water. From pasta, from salad, etcetera. You’ve never used one to cook?”_ _

__“I don’t cook much?” Grantaire says, phrasing it like a question._ _

__“I learned how to when I was young,” Enjolras says, sitting down on the floor next to Grantaire. “My parents weren’t really around, so I had to cook for myself.”_ _

__“I’m sorry,” Grantaire says. “My parents aren’t very interested in my life.” His voice is smooth. Soothing. “So I know how that feels, kind of.”_ _

__Enjolras gives him a warm smile._ _

__“What would you like to do today, Grantaire? Do you need me to take you somewhere? Home, or to a friend’s house? A girlfriend’s?” He feels silly as soon as he says it, cheeks pinkening._ _

__Grantaire laughs._ _

__“No girlfriend,” Grantaire says with a smile, looking down at his bare toes. “No boyfriend either,” he adds, after a long pause._ _

__“Got it,” he says. “And what about home?”_ _

__“I don’t want to go there,” says Grantaire immediately. “Can you….” he takes a breath, obviously distressed at the mention of going home. Enjolras can’t blame him. “Can you just show me around town? If that’s not too much trouble. I’d love to see it.”_ _

__“There are a few of your wood carvings in our local gallery,” Enjolras says. “Would you like to see those? We could also go for ice cream, and maybe to a movie. Or meet my friends.”_ _

__“All of those things,” says Grantaire. “Let’s do all of them. As long as I’m not keeping you from anything?”_ _

__“Absolutely not,” says Enjolras. “I don’t work until Monday, so today and tomorrow are wide open.”_ _

__“Wonderful!” Grantaire says. “So what first?”_ _

__The first thing they do is go to breakfast at a tiny café near the sea. There’s some sand on the floor and a few tourists, but there are mostly people Enjolras sees around town from time to time. Their town isn’t very large, and because Enjolras helps run the entertainment centers, he sees more than a few of them on a semi-regular basis._ _

__Enjolras introduces Grantaire to waffles, which he’s apparently never had before (has he lived under a rock or what?). Grantaire absolutely drenches them in syrup and then licks his fingers clean when he’s done._ _

__“Good?” Enjolras asks with a smirk. Grantaire only nods, before shoveling eggs on toast into his mouth. Enjolras laughs as he sips his own coffee._ _

__“So tell me a bit about yourself. You’re living in my house and I barely know anything about you.” Grantaire looks up like a deer in headlights. “Chew and swallow,” Enjolras reminds him gently._ _

__“You don’t want my life story,” Grantaire says dismissively. “Not worth telling.”_ _

__“Something, then. Anything. Friends? Family? Hobbies?”_ _

__“My best friend is named Eponine. She’s pretty far away right now. My family doesn’t much take an interest in me, only what they want for me. I enjoy carving, as you know, and,” the corners of his lips turn up when he pauses, “swimming.”_ _

__“Do you swim well?”_ _

__“You could say that,” he says with a coy smile. “But what about you? Tell me what you do.”_ _

__Enjolras tells him all about the movie theater, the art gallery, the arcade, and the other offerings his seaside town has in the way of entertainment. He’s in charge of them, in a sense; he plans events, leads gatherings, and even starts common interest clubs._ _

__Enjolras’s favorite of the common interest clubs, by far, is the Friends of the ABC, a group he helps lead, along with Combeferre and their friend Courfeyrac._ _

__These are all friends Enjolras promises Grantaire can meet later. But if Enjolras talks about his friends maybe a smidge too long, with a dopey smile on his face, there’s nothing to be done about it._ _

__“So there’s a meeting later?”_ _

__“Yes.”_ _

__“And you talk about…” Grantaire trails off._ _

__“Current events, from what’s happening overseas to right here in our town. And then we do something about it.”_ _

__“Like what?” Grantaire props his chin on his hand and looks at Enjolras with his unfathomably deep eyes. It’s more than a bit unsettling, to have the full force of that gaze meet his own, and Enjolras shifts in his seat._ _

__“Well, we petitioned to stop construction of condominiums and protested against the highway that would have taken out the west half of our town. For more global issues, though, we just try to raise awareness, and, where appropriate, money.”_ _

__Grantaire raises his eyebrows and shrugs, but doesn’t comment. Enjolras glances at him uneasily. They’ve had more than a few dissenters at their meetings, and it never goes well for Enjolras. He has a bad habit of alienating people who hold views that are not in line with his own. (And alienating is a kinder word than others might use.)_ _

__When Enjolras pays for breakfast, Grantaire holds up a dollar bill incredulously after Enjolras sets it down on the table._ _

__“Wow,” Grantaire laughs. “Kind of useless.”_ _

__Enjolras lets the comment go, mostly because he’s completely unsure of how to react. Grantaire is most certainly bizarre and very out there. It’s as if he’s come from a foreign country where life is completely different. But he speaks the same language as Enjolras, so at least it’s not completely awkward. He falls into step with Enjolras easily now, no leg spasms overtaking him as they did on their initial trek from the beach._ _

__They walk for a long while, around town and down by the beach. Enjolras catches Grantaire beaming down at his feet many times. He can’t quite figure out why though, because the sunny yellow flip flops he’s lent Grantaire aren’t anything special._ _

__“Oh,” it occurs to Enjolras again, “Did you want to go to the gallery?”_ _

__“Where people look at the things I carve?” He sounds tentative._ _

__“Among other things,” Enjolras shrugs. “Feuilly’s a really talented watercolorist, some of his work is there. You two would probably get along.”_ _

__“Does he belong to your merry band of small-town revolutionaries?” Grantaire’s grin is back on his face, just as Enjolras’s slides off._ _

__“Well, yes,” Enjolras deadpans._ _

__“Then I will meet him later?” Enjolras nods yes. “Cool. But yeah, I’d like to see the gallery.”_ _

__The walls are stark white, wide skylights shining bright sunlight down into the gallery. The gallery isn’t huge, only two open rooms with some sculptures in the middle, local artists’ paintings and sketches hanging on the walls._ _

__Enjolras leads Grantaire to the center of the room, where most of his carvings are set on what looks like a white podium. There are five or six in total, all fashioned to look like sea creatures and underwater plants. Grantaire’s eyes are wide, but the corners of his lips are turned up, at the sight of them. He reaches toward a little wooden sea turtle._ _

__“Don’t-” a sharp voice comes from behind him. He cradles the turtle in his hands, ignoring it. “Touch the art,” the voice finishes lamely, with a sigh. “Please put it back,” they continue, but Grantaire is obviously not listening, thoughts off somewhere deep inside his head, smiling down at the carving in his hand._ _

__“It’s okay, Cosette,” Enjolras says. “They’re, uh, his.” Grantaire doesn’t even turn around to look at Cosette. He moves on to a sea urchin, roughly carved from what looks like an old wooden buoy._ _

__“Yeah, I remember these,” he says. “I was up on the shore for a while, and..” he trails off as Enjolras and Cosette eye him curiously._ _

__“Do you want them back?” Enjolras asks tentatively. Grantaire shakes his head and tosses the carving back onto the table. Enjolras rushes to steady it, and then flushes a shade of pink. Grantaire smiles. “Do you want them put up for sale? We thought it was a bit unethical to sell them when we would have gotten all the profits.”_ _

__“Sell these?” Grantaire gestures to the wooden figures, brow furrowed. “Who would want them?”_ _

__“Lots of people? I mean, I have the one in my house,” Enjolras says. Cosette makes a choking sound from her desk, and then sighs again._ _

__“We get offers on them all the time,” she says boredly. Grantaire raises his eyebrows. Mustering all his strength, he calmly turns around and walks out the door, footsteps only a little shaky. Enjolras and Cosette watch him go, twin looks of confusion plastered across their faces. Enjolras is the one to follow him._ _

__When he goes outside and doesn’t see Grantaire right away, he instinctively pulls at his hair and bites his lip. He’s lost his guest, who among other things, seems unable to function on his own. He’s lost his really _really_ attractive, quirky guest._ _

__“Don’t tear your pretty hair out,” Grantaire says. Enjolras looks down. Grantaire is sitting on the ground again, back against the exterior of the gallery, head between his knees._ _

__“Are you alright?” It seems like a stupid question, but Enjolras asks it anyways._ _

__“Culture shock,” Grantaire replies, his voice muffled by his hands. And, well, that doesn’t make any sense at all, but okay._ _

__“Do you want me to get you some water?”_ _

__At this, Grantaire starts to laugh. And well, he keeps laughing. He laughs, and laughs, and laughs, and Enjolras shifts his weight awkwardly. After a minute or so Grantaire is curled up on his side, hysterical laughter finally tapering off. Enjolras squats down and offers him a hand._ _

__“Sorry, sorry,” Grantaire wheezes. “This is just really new.” He takes Enjolras’s hand and lets himself be hoisted up, and his knees almost immediately give out. He clings to Enjolras as he falls, and Enjolras gets a face full of black curls, Grantaire’s arms clasped twisted around his chest. “Sorry,” Grantaire says again, and rights himself._ _

__“Are you sure you don’t need to go to a hospital or something?” Enjolras’s voice is concerned._ _

__“No,” Grantaire’s voice is forceful. “No hospitals under any circumstances.” He grabs Enjolras’s sleeve again, seeming slightly panicked, so Enjolras decides to let it go. “I promise I’m okay,” Grantaire says, still gripping Enjolras’s sleeve with a tight fist. He lets go as soon as he notices what he’s doing, and awkwardly pats it flat. “I’m okay,” he says softly. “Thank you. You can uh, leave, though,” he looks away, fingers twitching at his sides. “It’s okay, I’m used to it.”_ _

__Enjolras’s face softens, almost against his will. But he has a weak spot for people who need his help, and Grantaire obviously needs...something. Maybe a friend? He can do that._ _

__“Of course not,” he says. Grantaire’s head snaps up. “We still have plenty to do, don’t we?”_ _

__Grantaire takes a slow breath, and nods._ _

__“Meeting the friends, right?”_ _

__“Right.”_ _

__When they arrive at Café Musain, the group is already there. As soon as they’re at the door, Courfeyrac is shaking Grantaire’s hand and introducing herself._ _

__“New boyfriend?” She murmurs into Enjolras’s ear. Enjolras rolls his eyes, and doesn’t respond. Instead, he takes Grantaire around and introduces him to everyone._ _

__Bahorel and Feuilly are at a table, discussing something excitedly. They are more than willing to stop and clap Enjolras on the back and welcome Grantaire to their little town. They don’t ask him too many questions, besides asking what it’s like living with Enjolras._ _

__Jehan is wonderful, as usual. She smiles at Grantaire and insists on having him and Enjolras over for dinner later that week._ _

__Grantaire takes to Joly and Bossuet like a fish to water. It’s almost ridiculous. Within five minutes, they have him on a bar stool in between them, a bottle of beer in his hand. All three are laughing, and Grantaire has a new, easy smile on his face._ _

__Enjolras smiles reflexively._ _

__He starts slightly when he feels Combeferre tug on his sleeve._ _

__“I need to talk to you and Grantaire,” he hisses, “now.” And he’s using his serious Combeferre voice, so Enjolras knows it’s important. He quickly goes to tug Grantaire away from his two new best friends, and into the less-busy back room. Once there, Combeferre stares down Grantaire._ _

__“I think you may have received a botched blood transfusion,” he begins, and it’s obvious he’s trying very hard to be casual. Tries, and fails. “Because your blood cells don’t even look human. Do you know how dangerous it is to receive serious medical care from places other than hospitals?” He’s a bit manic now, past even Joly’s usual level._ _

__“I didn’t receive a blood transfusion,” Grantaire sighs, looking at his feet._ _

__“Okay,” Combeferre is vibrating now, “Then can you tell me why a large number of your blood cells look like they were drawn from saltwater fish? Or sharks? Your hematocrit is also-”_ _

__“Um,” Grantaire says. “Now might maybe be a good time to mention that until yesterday morning I had a tail.” He looks at his feet, flexes his toes, and looks back up. “Oh, and gills. I had those too.”_ _

__Enjolras and Combeferre look at him and bink. Grantaire brings his hands up to his neck and flutters his fingers against the sides of his neck._ _

__“You know, gills? For breathing. Underwater.”_ _

__“We know what gills are.” Combeferre and Enjolras reply in unison._ _

__“Okay, well I’m not sure what other information you need, so just let me know when you figure it out?” Grantaire backs away slowly, eyes wide, tripping only slightly over his feet as he makes his way back into the bar. “If you need me, I’ll be running as far away as possible.”_ _

__“Alright, this is your problem,” Combeferre says, and walks away. He turns when Enjolras makes an anguished noise with a sigh. “What?”_ _

__“Do you think it’s true?”_ _

__“That your new friend used to be a merman?” Combeferre shrugs. “Why not? It kind of makes sense, when you think about it.”_ _

__“More things in heaven and earth, Horatio?” Enjolras cracks a smile, and Combeferre laughs._ _

__“In this situation, Enjolras, _you_ would be Horatio. I already believe in ghosts and psychics. Merfolk are hardly a stretch for me.” Well that much is true; Combeferre believes in anything and everything possible. Enjolras has never really given such things much thought, until now. He gives Enjolras a smile, and goes back out to his friends, leaving him to his thoughts._ _

__It would explain a lot. Grantaire’s confusion about clothes and modern technology due to his being born into an underwater culture, his difficulty walking due to the fact that this is only his second day with legs and feet. Occam’s razor had to be right sometimes._ _

__Or Grantaire could have some sort of brain tumor. Or have false memories implanted by aliens._ _

__Weighing all the options, Enjolras would rather believe in merfolk, honestly. So even with his brain two seconds from overloading, he makes his way back out to his friends and joins them in the lounge. Luckily, Bossuet and Joly have stopped Grantaire from leaving, so Enjolras doesn’t have to go chase them down the street._ _

__Courfeyrac mostly leads the proceedings, Enjolras too busy being lost in his own head, and Combeferre too exhausted from a 16-hour shift._ _

__When the meeting finally wraps up and Enjolras manages to extricate Grantaire from his new friends, the walk home is quiet. Enjolras assumes Grantaire’s head is spinning a bit, as Bossuet and Joly had taught him the merits of tequila shots._ _

__“So,” Grantaire says quietly._ _

__“So,” Enjolras says._ _

__“You’re not going to call people to come take me away?” Enjolras is immediately taken aback. He stops in his tracks and frowns._ _

__“Why would I do that?” Grantaire turns to look at him and folds his arms over his chest. He’s the picture of a dog which has been kicked one too many times._ _

__“Because I’m not human,” he mutters._ _

__“First of all, I’m not even sure I can wrap my brain around that yet.” He pauses and takes a breath. “But also, I would never do that.” His eyes are fierce, blazing. “Not to you, not to anyone.”_ _

__Grantaire smiles, but he seems a little sad._ _

__“Thanks.”_ _

__“That isn’t something you should have to thank me for,” Enjolras says forcefully. Grantaire shrugs._ _

__“All the same.”_ _

__“So what did you think of the meeting?” Enjolras asks, to change the topic._ _

__Grantaire snorts._ _

__“If I told you what I thought of the meeting, you would definitely throw me out.”_ _

__“Why’s that?”_ _

__“Nothing you do matters,” says Grantaire, staring at the sky. “You’re just a bunch of people from a small town that’s getting smaller by the year. I don’t understand all of the things you’re talking about, but I know you can’t change them.”_ _

__“And why is that?” Enjolras can’t help gritting his teeth and clenching his fists at his sides._ _

__Grantaire shrugs._ _

__“The world is so large, and there is so much out of your control. What makes you think that you have any impact?”_ _

__It makes Enjolras incredibly frustrated, but he stops arguing. Grantaire’s eyes look far away, and Enjolras guesses that he’s not talking about Enjolras and his friends at all. He quietly changes the discussion back to safer waters._ _

__When they get back, Enjolras offers Grantaire his own bed and Grantaire accepts gratefully. Enjolras is more than happy to take the couch for a few nights. Plus, Grantaire makes a happy face when he feels Enjolras’s pillows, and admits that sleeping is a new thing for him._ _

__When Enjolras finally sleeps, he dreams of fish (which is logical, given the situation)._ _

__~_ _

__When they sit down at breakfast together the next morning, Grantaire is still subdued, as if he’s worried Enjolras is going to change his mind and suddenly have him strapped to a table in a research lab._ _

__“Can I ask you a few questions?” Enjolras asks tentatively, as he stirs cream into his coffee. Grantaire nods. “So you’re a merman?”_ _

__“Um, not quite. But that’s the closest equivalent you guys have, yes.”_ _

__“So then what are you?”_ _

__“It’s a concept which doesn’t quit exist in your folklore. But before I had legs I had a tail similar to a clown fish, gills, and a small amount of latent magic.”_ _

__“And now?”_ _

__“Well, I gave up the magic for the legs. Which, as you can see, replaced the tail. Also no gills.”_ _

__Enjolras ponders this as he spoons another bite of Cheerios into his mouth._ _

__“So, latent magic. What’s that like?”_ _

__“I can’t really control it. It’s supposed to manifest eventually, but I never quite got there. So up until yesterday it would appear when I was in trouble or dying or-”_ _

__“Dying?”_ _

__“Yeah, why?”_ _

__“You’ve almost _died_?” Enjolras’s eyes are as wide as saucers._ _

__“I live in the ocean,” Grantaire points out. “You know, with sharks?” He makes a little dorsal fin out of his hand and puts it on his head, mimicking a shark swimming. “Also fishermen.” He makes a face at that._ _

__“Magic to use when you’re dying, that you can give up to get legs. Is that normal?”_ _

__“Normal, no. But not unheard of. My friend Eponine successfully lived on land for three weeks before she decided it wasn’t right for her. Luckily she was still within her window, so as soon as she stepped back in the ocean, she got her tail back.”_ _

__“Her window? How does that work?”_ _

__“Um, I found someone shady to do a magic conversion for me. I get legs for thirty days, well,” he pauses, mentally counting, “Twenty-eight now. If I choose to stay, I lose my magic forever and have to stay above water. But if I decide I want to return at any point, I can just...go.”_ _

__“So, magic.”_ _

__“Yeah, magic.” Grantaire grins._ _

__“This is so bizarre,” Enjolras says. “Can you prove it? Not that it’s a condition for you to stay here, I just..”_ _

__Grantaire shrugs. “Well, the magic is gone, for now at least. Wouldn’t know how to use it if I had it, anyways. But,” Grantaire looks around searching, “ah!”_ _

__He stands up from the table to cross the room, heading towards Enjolras’s twenty gallon fish tank. When he gets there he winks at Enjolras, and then puts a fingertip to the glass. In an instant, all of the fish swarm to his finger. He drags it slowly back and forth over the glass in a zig-zag pattern. The fish follow his finger, as if drawn to it magnetically. Grantaire smiles at them, open affection written over his face._ _

__“It’s not quite proof,” he says, “but it might make it easier for you to believe in me.”_ _

__“I didn’t say that I didn’t believe in you.”_ _

__Combeferre is willing to believe the story, from what he’s heard. So, that’s good enough for Enjolras. Plus, Grantaire seems harmless. Quite to the extreme, actually, he seems rather naive and defenseless. Maybe he’s different with a tail, in the ocean._ _

__When Grantaire sits down at the table again, Enjolras refills his coffee cup. “So that first day, with the car, when you couldn’t get out?”_ _

__“Are you talking about the giant magic metal deathtrap?” His fingers tighten on the mug of coffee, and Enjolras laughs._ _

__“No wonder you and Joly and Bossuet get along so well,” he says fondly. “Yeah, that thing. You’ve honestly never seen one before?”_ _

__“Dude, I swam everywhere. Literally everywhere, for the past twenty-four years of my life.”_ _

__“Are there any human things you know about?” Magic and weirdness aside, Enjolras is curious now. What human customs have filtered down into the sea? Do they know about the democratic process? Medical research?_ _

__“We know a lot about ship crafting? Also money. Some art. Things you would find on sunken ships.”_ _

__“That….makes sense,” Enjolras allows. “You must have a lot of questions.”_ _

__“You have no idea,” Grantaire says, smiling into his mug of coffee. “First of all being: how the hell do you walk so much? My legs ache so badly. And my poor new feet.” He furrows his brow. Enjolras can’t help but laugh again._ _

__“I’ll get you some Tylenol,” he says, “and I can draw you a hot bath to soak in. Then you can ask me all the questions you want, alright?”_ _

__Grantaire’s grin is answer enough._ _

__And boy, does he have a _lot_ of questions._ _

__Enjolras spends nearly a week straight answering Grantaire’s questions. For the most part, they’re pretty easy to answer. They’re largely questions about technology and what Grantaire calls “bizarre human customs,” like when they go to Jehan’s house, and Jehan says grace before dinner, or when Combeferre brings a bottle of wine when he comes for dinner as a host gift. Enjolras explains to him after each question comes up and Grantaire seems to understand, often merely shrugging and explaining the corresponding merfolk custom._ _

__After a week, they get into trickier territory, away from plates and forks and the invention of the bicycle._ _

__“So, human reproduction.” Well, it isn’t quite a question, but Enjolras raises his eyebrows and prepares for the worst, nonetheless._ _

__“What about it?”_ _

__“It seems kind of...inefficient?”_ _

__“Howso?”_ _

__“Well, you can only reproduce with a male and a female, right?”_ _

__“Right.”_ _

__“So what about any other pairs? Or reproduction by only one human?”_ _

__“They, um...just don’t have the necessary parts to make that work.”_ _

__“That’s just biologically and evolutionarily stupid.”_ _

__“You could see it that way, I suppose. I’m not an expert on reproductive biology though, you’d be better off having this conversation with Combeferre.” Grantaire basically ignores him, and plows through._ _

__“And what do same-sex couples do? Or people who aren’t in relationships?”_ _

__“I’m gathering that merfolk have a reproduction-based mating system?” Grantaire nods and Enjolras sighs, rubbing his eyes. “Well, some people just fall in love and stay together for no other reason than that. Or just for love, without sex. Is that not a thing?” Grantaire shrugs._ _

__“Infrequent,” he says, tracing the pattern of the couch next to his leg. “It’s not really emphasized as a necessity. We’re on the cusp of extinction so at this point, we’re pretty much just trying to survive. Almost everyone is paired off as a necessity.”_ _

__“That’s horrible,” Enjolras says, putting his hand over Grantaire’s. “Why didn’t you say anything?” He naturally interlaces their fingers, and Grantaire looks at their hands curiously._ _

__“We’re almost extinct and I’m abandoning my species and culture for at least a month, if not the rest of my life. It’s kind of selfish,” he mutters. “But that’s just me, I guess.”_ _

__“Preserving your culture and your species is important,” Enjolras says while squeezing Grantaire’s hand. “But everyone should be able to make their own choices, like you are. Otherwise, why bother?”_ _

__“This is some pretty heavy stuff,” Grantaire says, as lightly as possible. Enjolras smiles in response. “Maybe we can talk about my near-extinct species another time. It’s not exactly an uplifting conversation. Why don’t you tell me about governments? You have smaller sections of your land which are governed, but as a whole too? That sounds idiotic, how does that work?”_ _

__Enjolras knows it’s a diversionary tactic, knows Grantaire doesn’t have a deep-seated interest in the differences between state and national governments. But Grantaire is clutching at his hand like a lifeline, and if he doesn’t want to talk about his family or his decisions or a culture which may soon be extinct, Enjolras doesn’t know how to make him._ _

__“Actually,” Enjolras blushes. “I have some news.” Grantaire raises his eyebrows. “Well, since you’ve come back, a lot of people have been coming forward, saying they have a carving or sculpture of yours. So I may have organized a gallery showing on your behalf, where all of your works would be on display.”_ _

__Grantaire looks at him with wide eyes._ _

__“You wouldn’t have to sell anything if you don’t want. I know you think the concept of paper money is juvenile. But it might be a nice way for you to meet some people, if nothing else. I’m sure everyone would love to meet you...”_ _

__“Me? Yeah, right.” Grantaire snorts, leaning towards Enjolras, who rolls his eyes. Enjolras nods._ _

__“Yeah, you. It’ll be nice, I promise. And there’s free food.”_ _

__~_ _

__It is not nice. It is definitely not nice._ _

__Well, Grantaire seems like he’s having a grand time. Enjolras, on the other hand, is running interference from all sides. He’s sweating in his button down shirt, and it’s short-sleeved. He’s not only dealing with a merman who can’t seem to keep from saying the most absurd things, but also a caterer who is inexplicably late, a faulty air conditioning system in the middle of July, and an increasingly distressed Marius, who’s technically in charge of the gallery event today._ _

__Enjolras doesn’t get paid enough to deal with Marius, and he doesn’t get paid at all to deal with Grantaire. To be honest, though, the problem does not lie solely with Grantaire being unable to keep his mouth shut. The town’s wealthiest and most ‘important’ people are here, which means Inspector Javert is completely, and not subtly, interrogating Grantaire._ _

__“Where did you say you were from, again?” Javert’s eyes are narrowed, and Grantaire seems unfazed. His smirk borders on sardonic, and he is beginning to look mildly fed up with the entire situation. He smoothes down his (Enjolras’s) green tie before he replies._ _

__“From the sea-”_ _

__“World, SeaWorld, he lives right by SeaWorld,” Enjolras says, hand gripping Grantaire’s elbow as he forcibly inserts himself into the conversation._ _

__“You live in Florida?” Inspector Javert does not look impressed. His dark eyes search Grantaire’s face, narrowing._ _

__“Uh, yeah,” Grantaire says, when Enjolras elbows him as surreptitiously as possible._ _

__“Sorry,” Enjolras apologizes, adopting his rarely-used conciliatory smile. “Jetlag. It was a long trip for him.”_ _

__If possible, Javert’s eyes grow darker._ _

__“Florida isn’t-”_ _

__“Sorry, I really must introduce Grantaire to,” he looks wildly around the room for one of his friends, but cannot locate any of them, so he settles for just tugging Grantaire away towards the kitchen, where he hopes the caterer will be. They’re already an hour into the event and some of the older patrons are complaining about the lack of wine and canapes._ _

__“What are you doing,” he hisses, “you can’t just tell people that you used to have a tail and swam around the _ocean_.”_ _

__“Worked for you and Combeferre,” Grantaire shrugs, crossing his arms._ _

__“Not everyone is as well-intentioned as Combeferre and me. Do you want someone to drag you out for public scrutiny and marine biology research?” His grip is still tight on Grantaire’s elbow, and their heads are bent close together. Grantaire grins._ _

__“If I didn’t know better, angelfish, I’d say you were getting protective.” He leans against the wall, smirks, and Enjolras releases his elbow as a flush spreads across his own cheekbones._ _

__He can’t help it if Grantaire has only been here two weeks but he already feels like an inextricable part of Enjolras’s life. Unfortunately, he also spends a large part of his days trying to rile Enjolras up._ _

__“Excuse me if I don’t want you to end up-” Grantaire stops him with a hand on his wrist, his smirk softening into small smile._ _

__“I know,” he says, “thank you.” His mouth twists. “But some of these people are just so _frustrating_. How do you deal with them all the time?”_ _

__“Very carefully, and with a lack of tact,” he admits. Grantaire laughs at him. Just then Marius rushes by and Enjolras stops him with a hand on his arm._ _

__“Oh thank God, Enjolras. The caterer is here, but should I put out the wine yet? White or red? I just…” he trails off and grabs at his hair, but doesn’t seem to actually want an answer, because he just walks off the way he came, muttering to himself._ _

__“Poor guy,” Grantaire remarks. Enjolras shakes his head sadly._ _

__“He’s actually very good at planning events. But I think Cosette is making him nervous. She’s been smiling at him all evening.” Enjolras sighs, and Grantaire pats his shoulder. “Come on, we should go back out. But be _careful_ , please.”_ _

__He leaves Grantaire when Marius shouts his name frantically across the room, but he’s intercepted by Montparnasse before he can figure out what Marius is frazzled about._ _

__“Hello,” Montparnasse says, his smile managing to look indecent. He’s slick in a suit, and yeah, Enjolras knew he would come, but didn’t really _think_ about it. “I heard you have a new artist friend?”_ _

__“His name is Grantaire,” Enjolras says stiffly. Montparnasse’s mouth twitches, and he raises his eyebrows._ _

__“Relative of yours?”_ _

__“No, he’s just,” Enjolras pauses. “A friend. From out of town.”_ _

__“Introduce me,” Montparnasse says, as if they’re friends._ _

__“Introduce yourself,” Enjolras says, and walks away. There’s that lack of tact he was talking about with Grantaire. He assists Marius with an agitated patron who wants to buy one of Feuilly’s watercolors, then heads toward the catering table where he takes it upon himself to pour a large glass of chardonnay._ _

__He stands against the wall as still as possible, hoping for a minute or two alone without having to retreat outside. Across the room he can see Montparnasse introducing himself to Grantaire. Grantaire’s shoulders are rigid, his gestures jerky._ _

__Montparnasse, on the other hand, is leaning towards Grantaire, looking interested in him. Enjolras sighs. Montparnasse is well-known around town. He swaggered in a few years ago with little to his name and built up from there._ _

__Usually, Enjolras would admire someone who can build something from nothing, put in the hard work to make a name for themselves and accomplish something. But Montparnasse had done so through schmoozing and favors and, Enjolras suspects, blackmail. So Enjolras doesn’t think much of Montparnasse, or the insurance company he works for, Thenardier Enterprises._ _

__Even Montparnasse’s friends aren’t quite the pinnacle of decency. Though, Enjolras hesitates to call them friends. True, they do spend a lot of time with Montparnasse in social settings, but they also seem more along the lines of lackeys or henchmen. It’s not a group Enjolras world want to meet in a dark alley; they’re a rather creepy bunch. He wonders what Jehan ever saw in Montparnasse when they dated last year._ _

__Enjolras sees Inspector Javert heading towards him from the bathroom, picks the lesser of two evils, and pushes himself off the wall to slide into Grantaire and Montparnasse’s conversation._ _

__Except when he gets there, Grantaire and Montparnasse are locked in what seems to be a staring contest. Grantaire’s hands are jammed in his pockets, face locked in a grimace. Montparnasse looks like he’s just run a marathon, red in the face and breathing heavily._ _

__“Is everything okay?” Enjolras breaks the tense silence._ _

__“Yeah,” Grantaire says, relaxing minutely when Enjolras touches his elbow. “He was just leaving. Right, Montparnasse?”_ _

__The man in question raises his eyebrow, and then shrugs._ _

__“I would hate to impose on the artist, and I suppose I should be going. Good evening, gentlemen.” He nods to Enjolras. “Grantaire.” It’s a snide backhand, and Grantaire makes a move as if to follow him, but rolls his shoulders and lets out a low breath._ _

__“Wow,” Enjolras says._ _

__“Sorry,” Grantaire growls, not sound sorry in the slightest. “He just really gets under my gills.” He stops, and seems to notice what he’s said, because his cheeks turn pink. It’s _adorable_ , and Enjolras wants to laugh and smile and grab his hand, but he doesn’t have enough time to process these urges before Grantaire continues. “Sorry,” Grantaire mutters again, a mix of embarrassment and frustration._ _

__“You don’t need to apologize for saying the things you’ve grown up saying,” Enjolras says, “They’re just...different, is all. And you need to make sure you’re careful about who’s around when you say them.” It’s the same warning he’s given repeatedly._ _

__“I know, I know, I’m going to get strapped to a research table. It might be better than this party, though. When can we go back to your house?”_ _

__For once, Enjolras agrees with him._ _

__~_ _

__It isn’t the next morning until Enjolras broaches the subject._ _

__“What did Montparnasse say to you yesterday to get you so riled up? I mean, I don’t doubt that he can agitate someone in under three seconds, but you did just only meet yesterday.”_ _

__“No, we didn’t.”_ _

__“Yeah, you did. I don’t usually spend time in the same places he does, so I know you haven’t seen him when you’d been with me. Pretty sure last night was the first.”_ _

__“No, it wasn’t.” Grantaire’s voice is firm, and he looks at Enjolras pointedly over his forkful of eggs._ _

__Enjolras frowns until he finally gets it, and oh._ _

__“Oh,” he says. “Well. Then.”_ _

__“Yeah,” Grantaire sighs, and goes back to his eggs, seemingly finished with his statement._ _

__“And?” Enjolras asks._ _

__“And what?” Grantaire looks up at Enjolras again, egg in his mouth._ _

__“What did he say? Is it going to be a problem? Do we need to do something?”_ _

__“It’s none of your business,” Grantaire says plainly._ _

__“Excuse me?” Every bone in his body stills, and it’s as if time slows down._ _

__“I said it’s none of your business what he said to me. I don’t have to tell you every little thing Enjolras, don’t you know enough about my life?"_ _

__“You’re living in my house, Grantaire. Don’t you think there’s a thing or two I need to know, if you’re staying with me, sleeping in my bed, and eating my food? You have a _key_ , and you don’t even tell me that you used to know someone in this town because they lived with you in the _ocean_?”_ _

__“Sorry,” Grantaire bites out. “I didn’t know your hospitality was conditional on knowing all the details about my dying species and friends I may or may not have had in the past.” He’s up out of his chair and out the door before Enjolras can retort._ _

__Enjolras only hesitates for a few seconds before following him, a mixture of anger and worry swirling in his veins. He runs out the door, down his step, and onto the sidewalk before he thinks to look back. In his haste to follow, he hadn’t even noticed Grantaire sitting on his front step. Enjolras is perplexed for a moment, before Grantaire speaks._ _

__“I have nowhere else to go, Enjolras. My home is disappearing, and if I stay here I’m saying goodbye forever. It’s just a lot, okay? Montparnasse is horrible, I was glad when he left. But seeing him up here just makes it harder to leave. Harder to stay, too.” He’s not crying, but he looks miserable and tired. Enjolras’s heart aches. “And you’re too good to me, I don’t even know where to begin, but if I tell you everything and then I have to leave? What happens then? You just go around with all this useless information tucked inside your head, and I end up meaning nothing after I’m gone?”_ _

__Enjolras doesn’t know what to say, for once. He stands in front of Grantaire for what seems like an eternity. He eventually offers Grantaire his hand and pulls him up into the circle of his arms. Grantaire’s head is tucked into Enjolras’s neck, and it’s nice, even if a bit warm on a summer’s day._ _

__“You don’t need to tell me everything,” Enjolras says. “But you’re living with me and what happens to you affects me. You have to tell me important things,” Enjolras continues. “So I can keep you safe. Safe and happy.”_ _

__“It’s not your job to keep me safe, Enjolras, and it is definitely not your job to keep me happy.” His words are muffled, as they’re said into Enjolras’s shoulder._ _

__“It could be,” he says. Grantaire looks up at him for a long moment, but ultimately must not be able to figure out what to say, because he hugs Enjolras again, longer and tighter this time. When he finally breaks away, Enjolras can feel a warm sensation blooming in his chest._ _

__“So,” Enjolras says._ _

__“So.” Grantaire is looking at the ground._ _

__“Did you want to come back inside? I mean, I’m sure Joly and Bossuet would pick you up if you wanted to spend some time…not here,” he finishes lamely._ _

__“Back inside is fine,” Grantaire says hesitantly. “But don’t you need to go to work soon?” Enjolras checks his watch and has a moment of panic when he realizes he needed to leave at least five minutes ago to be on time. (His job isn’t that time-sensitive, but punctuality is very important to him.)_ _

__It isn’t the first time Enjolras has left Grantaire alone at the house. He’s been staying there by himself on the weekdays, with the occasional visit from Jehan or Joly and Bossuet, or the routine check-in with Combeferre. Enjolras has done his best to take off when he can. His boss Valjean is _thrilled_ that Enjolras is finally using his sick days and vacation days; Enjolras has a bad habit of working even when he’s throwing up, and getting everyone else in the town hall sick._ _

__However, he took off Friday and doesn’t want to miss the staff meeting today, so he grabs his tie on his way out the door, and smiles at Grantaire nervously. Before he leaves, he squeezes Grantaire’s shoulder._ _

__“You know how to get into town if you want something to do. Please-”_ _

__“Be careful,” Grantaire says quietly. “I know.” He manages a small smile. Enjolras wants to reach out and hug him again, but he really has to get moving if he’s going to make the beginning of the meeting._ _

__He does make the meeting, but once there, he finds that he can’t concentrate at all. His head is buzzing and time is moving too slow. He can’t remember much of what is said, but when Valjean asks him for contributions, he gives satisfactory answers, so no one cares too much that he’s mentally checked out._ _

__Enjolras takes his lunch break with Courfeyrac, who happens to be doing something in the same general area as him this afternoon (Enjolras doesn’t ask too many questions)._ _

__“How is our resident out-of-towner today?” Courfeyrac has salad in her mouth, and Enjolras raises an eyebrow. His face must do something funny, because Courfeyrac grins suddenly, the Cheshire Cat personified._ _

__“What,” Enjolras says._ _

__“Something is going on between you two, yeah? Your face did a thing.” She makes a vague gesture to further elaborate her point._ _

__“A thing?”_ _

__“Yeah, a thing. Now tell Auntie Courfey what’s going on.”_ _

__“Never call yourself that again,” Enjolras says emphatically. “And. I just...” He stops in order to properly formulate words. “I like Grantaire a lot. And he’s leaving soon.” He stares at his pasta, leftovers from two nights before, when he taught Grantaire how to make spaghetti._ _

__“You like him a lot? Like a lot a lot?” Courfeyrac leans forward, hands gripping the table, still grinning maniacally._ _

__“A lot a lot? Who let you out of middle school?”_ _

__“I see your diversionary tactics, Enjolras, and I am unimpressed. You cannot out-lawyer me, Enjolras. I am a lawyer.” The last sentence is stated dramatically, with a gesture towards herself, as if her appearance will confirm her claim._ _

__“A lawyer who shouldn’t have been let out of middle school,” Enjolras grumbles. He speaks up after a minute or two of silence. “Fine, I do like him a lot, I guess. As much as you can like anyone after two and a half weeks.”_ _

__“You can like someone _plenty _after two weeks, Enjolras, darling. And what do you mean, he’s leaving?”___ _

____“He has to go, he’s only staying here for a month.”_ _ _ _

____“Well you guys can text, if the guy ever gets a phone. Or Skype. Write letters? People still do that, right?” She munches thoughtfully on her salad. “He can visit. He can stay with me! We’ll trade Enjolras stories, it’ll be fun.” Courfeyrac laughs, already excited about things Enjolras knows won’t happen._ _ _ _

____“He won’t be coming back,” Enjolras says, a little morosely. Courfeyrac looks confused, so Enjolras sighs and continues. “He doesn’t live close, and it’s pretty impossible for him to get here and back, so this is it.”_ _ _ _

____“Is that why you can’t concentrate today? Valjean said something to me on my way in.”_ _ _ _

____“I hadn’t really thought about it. My head’s just been kind of dizzy? I don’t know, I’m not used to this. I’m not quite sure what’s going on.”_ _ _ _

____“What’s going on is that you don’t want him to leave. Which I totally get, Grantaire’s a great guy. We all really like him.”_ _ _ _

____“Yeah, he is pretty great,” Enjolras says, smiling to himself as he absentmindedly twirls his pasta on his fork._ _ _ _

____“So talk to him,” Courfeyrac says with a shrug._ _ _ _

____“What?”_ _ _ _

____“Well nothing is going to happen if you keep your thoughts to yourself. Nothing besides what you’ve said already, anyways.”_ _ _ _

____“I’ll think about it. I’m not sure what it’ll change, but I guess you’re right.”_ _ _ _

____“Dude, always tell your friends, or your more-than-friends,” she looks pointedly at Enjolras, “how much you care about them.”_ _ _ _

____“Thanks for the advice, Courfeyrac.”_ _ _ _

____“Anytime,” Courfeyrac says. “Now please direct me to the chocolate cake, which I believe I overheard Bahorel talking about when I passed his office.”_ _ _ _

____“It’s in the kitchen.” Enjolras sighs resignedly, getting out of his chair. “Wait, Bahorel in his office?” he asks, shaking his head._ _ _ _

____“Yeah,” Courfeyrac agrees. “Who saw that coming, right? Like I wasn’t even sure he knew where it was until I saw him there today.”_ _ _ _

____“I think he goes in once or twice a month to pick up paperwork, or possibly secret government orders slipped under his door.” Enjolras grins. Bahorel isn’t often in his office, but he spends a lot of time in the community doing PR and he’s always reachable by phone, so Enjolras can’t complain too much._ _ _ _

____The chocolate cake is as delicious as the rumours have suggested, and Enjolras wraps up a piece to take home for Grantaire._ _ _ _

____He gets a phone call on his way home from work._ _ _ _

____“Combeferre?” He answers before he turns on his car._ _ _ _

____“Courfeyrac said you came into a belated realization today and that I should encourage you to discuss your feelings with Grantaire.”_ _ _ _

____“Courfeyrac says a lot of things,” Enjolras grumbles._ _ _ _

____“I hardly think extending a hand of friendship to Grantaire is a cause for so much disdain.”_ _ _ _

____Enjolras blushes, glad Combeferre cannot see him._ _ _ _

____“It has rather recently come to my attention that perhaps what I am feeling extends beyond the parameters of a standard friendship.” And by _come to his attention recently_ he means about when he was cutting a slice of cake for Grantaire, wondering if they should go out for dinner, and how to invite him out without it sounding like a date. Which it would be, actually, if he’s being honest with himself._ _ _ _

____“Oh, so you like like him.”_ _ _ _

____“You spend too much time with Courfeyrac.”_ _ _ _

____“That’s a yes,” Enjolras can hear the smile in Combeferre’s voice. “Well, that’s tricky.”_ _ _ _

____Enjolras waits a moment, hoping that isn’t the end of what Combeferre has to say on the matter, but ultimately presses._ _ _ _

____“Is that it?”_ _ _ _

____“Shh, I’m trying to figure out the possible mechanics of human-merman intimacy.” Enjolras flushes red, and now is definitely glad he’s sitting in his car where no one can see him._ _ _ _

____“He’s human right now,” Enjolras grumbles. “And I’m pretty sure the cultural perception of a relationship is different in his culture than here.”_ _ _ _

____“You can always ask,” Combeferre says._ _ _ _

____“But he’s leaving soon.”_ _ _ _

____“You can always ask.”_ _ _ _

____“Ask him to stay?”_ _ _ _

____“You could,” Combeferre suggests._ _ _ _

____“I couldn’t do that,” Enjolras says, sadly. “Abandon his entire society, family, friends, for a life up here? Just because I think I might like to spend more time with him? That’s not really fair to ask of him.”_ _ _ _

____“Well, is it fair to let him make the decision to go back without knowing there’s something to stay for?” Combeferre doesn’t sound dramatic, merely pragmatic._ _ _ _

____Enjolras doesn’t answer, just makes a vaguely distressed noise._ _ _ _

____“Well, I’ll leave you to your angsting, as my break was over ten minutes ago. Please ask Grantaire if he would be willing to donate a few more vials of blood in the name of Science. I have some questions.”_ _ _ _

____“For Grantaire? I can have him call you.”_ _ _ _

____“No, for his blood cells,” Combeferre says. “Keep up, Enjolras.”_ _ _ _

____He hangs up after saying goodbye, and his thoughts take him all the way home, a faint smile on his face as he gets out of his car in his driveway._ _ _ _

____His door is wide open when he fishes out his key and looks up, which is definitely unusual. He shoves his key back in his bag and tentatively pushes the door open more with one hand, cake slice in the other. Grantaire has his own key, Enjolras would have expected him to lock up if he went out._ _ _ _

____“Grantaire?” he calls. There’s no answer, but he moves cautiously into his living room, frowning. When he gets to the kitchen, he sets the cake on the counter. He calls Grantaire’s name a few more times and checks all of the rooms in his small house, even ducking into the basement and the backyard._ _ _ _

____Grantaire hasn’t left a note, and Enjolras feels his stomach start to become uneasy. He calls Joly first. Joly hasn’t heard from Grantaire, but assures Enjolras that he’s fine, probably just out for a walk._ _ _ _

____Enjolras systematically calls all of his friends, but no one has heard from Grantaire, or just aren’t responding. Bossuet, who works with the police, says Grantaire isn’t at the station, and Enjolras knows Combeferre would call if Grantaire turned up at the hospital. He sends text messages to those who don’t pick up, and gets back into his car after leaving a note for Grantaire on his front door, saying that he’ll be back in an hour, and to _please stay put_ if he comes back._ _ _ _

____He drives around his neighborhood and nearby streets, to no avail. He checks the café, the bookstore, the office, and even places he and Grantaire haven’t been. His last stop is the gallery and he walks in with his nerves going a mile a minute, but a quick check with Marius in his office confirms that Grantaire hasn’t been by._ _ _ _

____Enjolras sits in his car for a few minutes, eyes closed and breathing slowly. He wills himself to calm down, tapping a slow and steady beat on his steering wheel. Texts from his friends trickle in, each saying that they haven’t seen Grantaire today._ _ _ _

____The next thought that occurs to him is an unwelcome one. Still, he gets Montparnasse’s address from Jehan, and makes the drive to the beach house. His hands are nearly vibrating on the way there, and he’s trying to convince himself that everything is alright. Maybe right now Grantaire is sitting on his front stoop, waiting for him to come home and they’re going to laugh about this later, but Grantaire will still understand when Enjolras curls around him on the couch and doesn’t let go._ _ _ _

____When he pulls up in front of Montparnasse’s house, it looks peaceful. When he knocks on the door, someone calls out, and he starts. But it’s only the neighbor, an old man weeding his garden in the fading afternoon._ _ _ _

____“Looking for Monty?” he says, and Enjolras nods yes as he makes his way across the grass to meet the man. “Went out to his boat earlier, I think. Seemed to be in a big hurry. Maybe he had a trip planned?”_ _ _ _

____“I’m not sure, but I do need to find him. Do you think you could tell me where exactly he docks his boat?”_ _ _ _

____~_ _ _ _

____Enjolras makes his way to the marina with a location and a name. It’s not a promise that Grantaire will be there, but it’s a start, and Enjolras probably drives significantly faster than he should. His parking job is haphazard at best, but it’s a weekday and a bit chilly, so the place is pretty deserted. Most of the boaters go out on weekends, and some have even prepared their boats for the upcoming fall and winter. Enjolras’s car is one of three in the lot._ _ _ _

____He’s lucky he even remembers to lock his car before sprinting down the dock, noting the letters on the ground marking each dock until he reaches letter E, which is where he turns. He then slows down out of necessity, having to look at each boat carefully for a name. A cursory look down the dock tells him that none of the boats are out, which means that Montparnasse is here, somewhere._ _ _ _

____The second to last boat on his left is the one he’s looking for, _Siren’s Call_. The letters are dark against the white hull. He stands on the dock a moment, wondering what to do, clenching and unclenching his fists. The ship looks uninhabited. It’s still tied and nothing has been prepared to set sail. Enjolras calls out once, with no answer. After a minute or so of mild panic, he grits his teeth and jumps aboard the boat. It’s not easy, the top is near his shoulders and the ladder isn’t down. He does his best to hoist himself over the side. _ _ _ _

____He does successfully pull himself into the boat, but lands on his right hip and winces. He hauls himself upright anyways and finds the door to the cabin. He swings it open with more force than intended. There are stairs that lead down, but Montparnasse appears before he can begin the descent._ _ _ _

____“Breaking and entering?” Montparnasse’s back is rigid._ _ _ _

____“I didn’t break anything,” Enjolras says defensively. “Sorry, I called out but you didn’t answer, and your neighbor said you were here. Sorry, I didn’t mean to...anyways, have you seen Grantaire?”_ _ _ _

____“No,” Montparnasse snarls. “Now get out.”_ _ _ _

____Enjolras frowns._ _ _ _

____“I know you two used to know each other. I just thought maybe he had gone to talk to you? Are you sure you haven’t heard from him?” Enjolras heart is thumping, and Montparnasse looks as adrenaline-shocked as Enjolras feels. There’s a distinct tremor to his hands, and his back is ramrod straight, arms curled defensively around his body. His stance effectively blocks the stairs down. “Are you okay?” Enjolras asks after a long moment. The longer he looks at him, the more Montparnasse looks like he’s about to pass out._ _ _ _

____Before Montparnasse can answer, Enjolras hears a weak cough coming from somewhere on the lower level. He barrels around Montparnasse before he can even begin to try and stop him._ _ _ _

____It’s more instinctual than anything. It’s not like he can recognize Grantaire by his cough. But someone is down here and something is going on that Montparnasse doesn’t want him to know about. He’s not usually this harsh, just conniving and vaguely menacing._ _ _ _

____Enjolras flies down the staircase and nearly faceplants onto the floor, his eyes flashing wildly around before they land on Grantaire’s crumpled figure. He looks weak, thrown unceremoniously on the floor, hands bound in front of him._ _ _ _

____Enjolras feel his heart rate skyrocket and before he knows what’s happening he’s on his knees next to Grantaire, taking his pulse and feeling his forehead. His pulse is weak, but he’s alive. It seems that Grantaire is just coming to, but he has a large bruise on the side of his head, and Enjolras wants to rage. Grantaire was supposed to be safe in his house._ _ _ _

____“You should leave,” Montparnasse’s cold voice says, trembling. Enjolras does not move, and instead smoothes Grantaire’s hair away from his face and checks for more bruises or welts. “You have to leave,” he says, trying again. “Please.” It’s beseeching._ _ _ _

____“What the _fuck_ is your problem?” Enjolras says. He’s torn between keeping a hold on Grantaire’s hand and getting up to face Montparnasse. He settles for a twist of his torso and the fiercest gaze he can manage._ _ _ _

____“Please, just leave,” Montparnasse says, clenching his fist. It’s just then that Enjolras notices the knife clutched in Montparnasse’s hand. Enjolras reaches for his cell phone, only to find an empty pocket. He had apparently left it in his car in his haste to get here. “Leave,” Montparnasse whispers again, his eyes flashing between the knife and Enjolras._ _ _ _

____Montparnasse’s eyes are wide and apprehensive, even as he advances with the knife. His posture doesn’t match the weapon in his hand, and Enjolras isn’t at all sure what’s going on. He knows Montparnasse and Grantaire have a history, but he figured that Grantaire would tell him if it were bad enough to _kill_ over. Enjolras sets himself squarely in front of Grantaire, who’s still groggily waking._ _ _ _

____“What?” Grantaire finally says, squeezing Enjolras’s hand. “What’s going on? It feels like someone hit me on the head with a rock.” He sounds horrible, but alive._ _ _ _

____Enjolras doesn’t dare look back at him, but he tightens his hold on Grantaire’s hand._ _ _ _

____“He very well might have,” Enjolras seethes. “Seriously, Montparnasse, what are you doing? This is ridiculous. You’re going to go to jail-”_ _ _ _

____“No, I’m not. I won’t be here.”_ _ _ _

____“What?”_ _ _ _

____Enjolras is so, so, confused. Is he going to kill them and then sail away?_ _ _ _

____Montparnasse kneels down on the floor, and sets his knife down. Enjolras thinks about lunging for it, but it’s too far and that would mean leaving Grantaire vulnerable, which he is not willing to do. It’s only when Montparnasse begins unwinding the hatch in the floor that Enjolras realizes what he’s doing._ _ _ _

____“You’re insane,” he says. “You’re insane and you’re going to drown us in this boat.” He scoots back closer to Grantaire, who’s finally sitting up and looking at the hatch with trepidation. “Come on, Grantaire,” he says, and tries to tug him up, but suddenly Montparnasse is standing over them, hand with the knife outstretched. Water is entering the boat at an alarmingly rapid pace, and Grantaire is scrambling backwards to avoid it. Enjolras doesn’t realize what Montparnasse is doing, until it happens._ _ _ _

____The water touches Grantaire’s bare leg, and suddenly his body shifts. Enjolras can’t look away._ _ _ _

____His legs fuse together, in a whirlwind of melding flesh and what sounds like cracking bones. Grantaire screams, and Enjolras pales. He watches as a fluke grows from where Grantaire’s feet used to be, fashioning itself into a bright orange tail. Scales seem to race across his skin. alternating between white and orange and black. It’s beautiful._ _ _ _

____When the process finishes, Grantaire has stopped screaming, but he’s panting and his eyes are watery. He also has a large, long tail. Enjolras can’t help but stare. Grantaire tries to take a breath and it obviously doesn’t work as well as he hoped - his gills are dry and he just ends up gasping for air, chest rising uselessly into the air._ _ _ _

____“Oh my god,” Enjolras says, his hands trying to help Grantaire splash water on his neck. Grantaire ends up half in Enjolras’s lap, Enjolras staring down at him frantically. They finally stabilize after a moment, but only because the boat is taking on water _fast_. It’s creeping up enough that Enjolras can just push water towards Grantaire to keep him breathing. It’s incredibly bizarre, and Enjolras is only panicking a little bit. He panics more when he looks up from Grantaire’s wild-eyed gaze to see Montparnasse._ _ _ _

____“I’m sorry,” Montparnasse says. “It’s the only way.”_ _ _ _

____“What are you doing?” Enjolras is nearly begging. He’s in the bottom of a sinking boat, holding a man he may or may not be in love with while someone threatens them with a knife._ _ _ _

____“I have to go back. I can’t be on land anymore,” Montparnasse continues. “And now that he’s here, I can leave.”_ _ _ _

____“He’s going to kill me and take my magic,” Grantaire says softly, not even trying try to move. His eyes are sad, but it looks more like pity than anything else._ _ _ _

____“You can’t do that,” Enjolras snarls, tightening an arm around Grantaire’s shoulders._ _ _ _

____“It’s the only way,” Montparnasse says. “No one would ever willingly give that up.”_ _ _ _

____“You did,” Enjolras points out, and Montparnasse’s eyes flash._ _ _ _

____“I did _not_ ,” he seethes. “I would _never_.”_ _ _ _

____“But then-”_ _ _ _

____“I was in jail,” he said. “In jail for a week and I had no one and I-”_ _ _ _

____“You got stuck,” Enjolras says, finally understanding._ _ _ _

____It’s been years since Montparnasse came to town. Enjolras can’t pinpoint exactly, but its been at least four years, maybe more. Montparnasse has been stuck on land for four years in a life he never wanted. Enjolras can’t help but feel a deep sympathy for him, even as he kneels next to Grantaire, a knife half to his throat._ _ _ _

____“I can’t be stuck here for another day,” Montparnasse says. He puts the knife almost to Grantaire’s throat and pauses. Grantaire is so, so, still. Montparnasse’s desperation is evident in his eyes. He’s not a criminal, Enjolras realizes. He doesn’t want to kill Grantaire; he simply believes there is no other way for him to become a merman again._ _ _ _

____“I could stay,” Grantaire says, so quietly. Enjolras’s heart almost stops._ _ _ _

____“What?” Montparnasse’s eyes have gone wide, almost hopeful._ _ _ _

____“You could have just asked me,” Grantaire says. “Because if it means this much to you to go back, then you deserve it more than I ever did.” He’s trembling in Enjolras’s arms, but takes the knife from Montparnasse. He makes a long cut down his forearm, from wrist to elbow, and then hands the knife to Montpanasse._ _ _ _

____Montparnasse seems to hesitate._ _ _ _

____“Take it,” Grantaire offers. “Brand new magic,” he says reverently, and a bit sadly. “It’s never been used before. It can be yours.” At this, Montparnasse seizes the knife and makes a nearly identical cut to his own arm, barely even wincing. Enjolras can’t look at the amount of blood dripping into the water, but then they press their arms together._ _ _ _

____Nothing big happens, no fireworks or swirling lights emanating from their arms. But Grantaire’s tail starts to split in two, and Montparnasse’s legs begin to knit together. Grantaire screams again, and Enjolras clutches at him helplessly. Montparnasse just stares at his lower half in disbelief._ _ _ _

____When it’s all done, Enjolras once again has an eyeful of naked Grantaire, but this time he’s too high on adrenaline to be embarrassed._ _ _ _

____Montparnasse is clutching at Grantaire’s hands, thanking him profusely. Grantaire just nods dumbly and before he can even respond, Montparnasse is down and out of the hatch, swimming away powered by a strong brown tail._ _ _ _

____“What just happened?” Enjolras takes a deep breath._ _ _ _

____There’s a long moment where neither of them say anything or move, but then Grantaire shakes his head. His arm has blood on it, but the cut has healed, leaving a shiny scar._ _ _ _

____“We need to get out, Enjolras,” Grantaire says. He’s leaning back against Enjolras’s chest, though they’re partially floating now. The water is higher, and Enjolras nods._ _ _ _

____“Yeah. Can you move?”_ _ _ _

____Grantaire can move, but it’s slow. They wade towards the stairs, pushing away the floating objects that were previously on the floor of the boat. The boat has taken on so much water that by the time they get to the top of the stairs and out to the deck, the deck is level with the dock. However, they collapse more than they step, and Enjolras ends up sprawled across Grantaire’s wet body, but blissfully supported by the solid wood of the dock._ _ _ _

____“Hello,” Enjolras says, winded._ _ _ _

____“Hey,” Grantaire smiles up at him. His eyes look like the waves out to sea. Enjolras stares for a moment, but ultimately scrambles off him._ _ _ _

____“Um, can you explain what just happened? For the human?”_ _ _ _

____“Basic magic transfer. It’s just a legend. Well, not a legend, I guess.” Grantaire laughs breathlessly._ _ _ _

____“So,” Enjolras says, as he picks himself up and grabs Grantaire’s hand to pull him upright. “That means you’re staying?” It’s a question best asked now, before he gets his hopes up._ _ _ _

____“Um, yeah,” Grantaire says softly, looking down. Enjolras puts hand to his cheek and tilts Grantaire’s head up to face him. “Is that okay?” He asks hesitantly, as if Enjolras would just throw him out._ _ _ _

____Enjolras frames Grantaire’s face with his hands, and leans in to kiss him. He freezes a moment and is convinced he’s doing something wrong until Grantaire’s hands find his waist. Grantaire is looking at him softly, waiting. When their lips meet, Enjolras smiles into the kiss, and Grantaire’s hands slide around Enjolras’s back to bring them closer together._ _ _ _

____When they pull back, they’re both smiling, and Grantaire laughs._ _ _ _

____“Human customs like that,” he says, “I think I could get used to.” Enjolras smiles, and kisses him again._ _ _ _

____“Come on, let’s go home.”_ _ _ _

____And they do._ _ _ _

____ _ _

____ _ _

____**Epilogue** _ _ _ _

____Though Enjolras treats all open waters with a certain amount of trepidation, Grantaire adores the beach. So they end up on the sea shore more often than not, when their days off coincide. Grantaire teaches some art classes at the rec center, and has a part-time job at the bookstore._ _ _ _

____He may not have gills and a tail anymore, but he still loves the waves and the sand and all the little critters he can find in the shallow surf._ _ _ _

____But today is about teaching Enjolras to swim._ _ _ _

____“I don’t know,” Enjolras says warily. “Can’t we just go on a boat or something? I’ll even wear a life jacket.”_ _ _ _

____“You hate life jackets,” Grantaire says, setting their chairs down. He kneels down next to where Enjolras is spreading a towel out. “Plus, you’ve lived in a seaside town all your life. It’s time you learned to swim.”_ _ _ _

____Enjolras gives a heavy sigh._ _ _ _

____“I’ll be right beside you,” Grantaire promises, and leans in for a soft kiss. He intends it to be chaste, but Enjolras slides his fingers into Grantaire’s curls and deepens the kiss, ending it with nip to Grantaire’s lower lip. Grantaire laughs. “I see your diversionary tactics, but I am not so easily swayed.”_ _ _ _

____He stands up and goes to stake their umbrella into the sand, while Enjolras gets out the sunscreen._ _ _ _

____“Are you sure?” Enjolras asks. “I can be very persuasive.” He smirks while fiddling with the hem of his white t-shirt, and then proceeds to get it stuck on his head while trying to take it off._ _ _ _

____Grantaire is nearly in stitches._ _ _ _

____“Oh, can you?” He says through his laugher. Enjolras is red, but that could be from blushing or from sunburn. They’ve only been outside for a few minutes, but Enjolras is very pale and very freckled._ _ _ _

____“Can you get my back?” Enjolras says sheepishly, holding out the sunscreen._ _ _ _

____“Sunscreen, half an hour of reading max, and then you’re going out into the water,” Grantaire says, pointing his finger at his boyfriend._ _ _ _

____“Just me?” Enjolras turns, if possible, even paler than his natural state._ _ _ _

____“Well, I’ll already be out there,” Grantaire says, while squirting sunscreen into his palm, and then slathering it across Enjolras’s back. Enjolras hums as Grantaire rubs the lotion in, and then settles on his towel, which he’s dragged into the shade of the umbrella._ _ _ _

____Grantaire’s immediately out into the water, disappearing under the surface for long periods of time, only coming up when he runs out of air. Enjolras watches him more than he actually reads his book. It makes Enjolras’s heart beat a bit faster when Grantaire doesn’t reappear for longer than usual. When his head finally pops up out of the water again, Enjolras releases a breath he didn’t realize he was holding._ _ _ _

____He walks to the water of his own accord, and meets Grantaire in the shallow water. It’s barely to his knees, but Enjolras shivers anyway._ _ _ _

____“Come on,” says Grantaire softly, twining his hand with Enjolras’s. Enjolras hesitates, and Grantaire literally sweeps Enjolras off his feet and into his arms. Enjolras shrieks, but it tails off into a laugh._ _ _ _

____“You’re freezing,” he says, teeth chattering, but he puts his arms around Grantaire’s neck nonetheless. Grantaire’s legs are much stronger now, thanks to daily runs and a general enthusiasm for testing his new limbs. He carries Enjolras out into the water, waves breaking around his waist, and Enjolras is still shivering. When they finally get out further, Enjolras is mostly floating, held by Grantaire._ _ _ _

____“Can’t we just do this?” Enjolras asks, pressing a kiss to Grantaire’s collarbone to tempt him. Grantaire only laughs._ _ _ _

____“No, swimming today,” he says. “You promised.”_ _ _ _

____Indeed he did, so Enjolras grumbles and lets Grantaire settle him in the water. His feet find the sand below, and he sighs._ _ _ _

____“It’s much like treading water,” Grantaire says, “but underneath the surface.”_ _ _ _

____“You’re not teaching me to swim freestyle?” Enjolras asks warily._ _ _ _

____“Now where’s the fun in that?” Grantaire smirks. “Take a deep breath,” he warns, and Enjolras is about to ask why when Grantaire pulls him under the surface. He blinks underwater, but ultimately keeps his eyes open. The salt water doesn’t sting his eyes as much as he thought it would, and when he looks past Grantaire into the deeper water, he gets a surprise._ _ _ _

____There’s a woman there, with a thick black tail, waving at them. Enjolras would gasp, but isn’t going to give up any of his air. he does his best to tread water as Grantaire pulls him deeper. He’s too curious to worry about running out of air._ _ _ _

____The woman in front of them smiles, looks at Grantaire’s legs, and laughs. She comes up to Grantaire in order to place her hand on his cheek and look at him. When she pulls her hand away, she looks at Enjolras._ _ _ _

____“Take care of him,” she says, and the sound reverberates in Enjolras’s ears. He blinks, but doesn’t dare open his mouth, just nods. She smiles again, softly, and swims away, her inky black tail cutting through the water._ _ _ _

____Enjolras tugs on Grantaire’s hand now, and tries to kick himself up to the surface, lungs burning. When Grantaire notices and heads up as well, it’s easier and faster._ _ _ _

____They break the surface and Enjolras gasps for air. He leans on Grantaire heavily, now that they’re far enough out that he cannot stand._ _ _ _

____“Was that,” Enjolras says, breathlessly._ _ _ _

____“Eponine,” Grantaire finishes, a smile in his voice._ _ _ _

____“Have you visited with her before?” Enjolras asks, finally catching his breath._ _ _ _

____“Once or twice.” Grantaire’s gaze is far out to sea. Enjolras leans his head against Grantaire’s shoulder, and squeezes his hand._ _ _ _

____“Do you miss it?” he asks, quietly._ _ _ _

____“All the time,” Grantaire turns to Enjolras and leans in to kiss him, tasting of salt. He smiles against Enjolras’s lips. “But it’s not so bad here.”_ _ _ _

____“Not so bad?” Enjolras asks._ _ _ _

____In response, Grantaire pulls him in for another kiss, and then back underwater again._ _ _ _

_______ _ _ _

**Author's Note:**

> If you'd like, you can come say hello at [my tumblr](http://grantairely.tumblr.com/).   
> Hope you enjoyed! :)


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